


Beholden

by FoxVII



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal sex with tentacles, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel as God (Supernatural), Consentacles...ish, Dubious Consent, Human Sacrifice, Human sacrifice Dean Winchester, M/M, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 20:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxVII/pseuds/FoxVII
Summary: The intruder was a gift, Castiel decided. Though not one for any conventional reasons. He wondered how he would react, the little hunter, if he, himself, were to become prey.Or. When a human comes into his forest, unbidden, pagan god Castiel decides that he's just interesting - and pretty - enough to keep.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 347





	Beholden

**Author's Note:**

> Written part for the tentacle challenge in the Sabriel server and part to fill my tentacle sex square in SPN kink bingo. 
> 
> A huge thanks to Amie for the beta on this one! I struggled so hard writing this, so thank you for making my words pretty! And credit goes to Medha for the title!
> 
> Now featuring GORGEOUS art by @superbaturalart!!! Go check her out on tumblr!

Human legends spoke of a great battle in the stars.

In the beginning there was a Creator god, who was once benevolent and good. Over time, he grew careless and surly. He was prone to fits of rage, bouts of it that would leave the Earth scarred and dead, marring his once beautiful, pristine creation. 

Deciding that he was no longer fit to guide that which he had made, the new gods rose up to destroy him. Once they vanquished Creator god, the new gods made Earth their home as well. Full of love for mankind, their guidance ushered in a new era of peace and prosperity.

The truth was far less dramatic, and much more questionable.

For one thing, the Creator was the only true God of the lot. The rest were all his children, his angels, made to carry out His orders. Their entire purpose was to serve Him and protect His creations.

For another, there was no great battle. Only that one day, the Creator just... left. Which, of course, begged the question: what does a servant do once his master is no more?

Thus, the angels did battle - though not with their now-absent father. They fought and grappled, yes, but only with the question of their very purpose.

Michael, the eldest of them all, called them together. So began the meetings and the endless debates. What were they to do now without their father's will to guide them? Some insisted on staying, waiting for their father's eventual return. Others argued that their old directive - to guide and protect humanity - still stood.

At the end of it all, they split. Joshua, Metatron and a few others remained. The rest descended to Earth, claiming their inheritance over their father's paradise for themselves. Once there, each took dominion over an aspect of creation, to better govern mankind. They crafted a new home for themselves high in the clouds. They called it Arcadia, and warded their sprawling, golden halls from perception of human eyes.

And so, the Pantheon was born.

Michael took the throne as the leader of the gods, patron saint of Kings and generals. Raphael, his second, took up the mantle of the goddess of knowledge. She revealed select pieces of the Creator's wisdom to those she deemed worthy. Artificers were born from her guidance, and from them, the industry of magitech.

Gabriel remained the messenger, his role too important to be replaced. Never mind that his nature too flighty to be presiding over a temple besides. That being said, he did favour the mischievous among mankind. It wasn't uncommon to find him doling out rewards for those among men who took to punishing others in an especially creative and hilarious fashion.

Anael rose to become the goddess of love, protector of single women. Hannah, the goddess of healing, patron saint of doctors. Inias, Samandriel, Hael and Rachel became the spirits of the four winds.

Castiel took up the mantle of the god of storms. Sailors who prayed to him before embarking on their journeys would dock safely on their destined shores. Those who did not had their fates left up to chance.

Lucifer, meanwhile, disagreed with Michael's decisions. If humans required protection then, by definition, they were weak. Thus, they were unworthy of the paradise that they'd been given. Why shouldn't angels take it for their own?

Some of the angels took Lucifer’s side. Others chose neither side, opting for careful neutrality. But as Lucifer's ire grew, so did the discontent among the Pantheon. A new war was brewing; one with far deadlier consequences. 

Tension built century over century, until one day it all came crashing down. Lucifer attacked Arcadia with those loyal to him. Unprepared for the assault, near half the angels fell that day. Those who remained were able to eject him from their home in the clouds, but at great personal cost. They needed a veritable flood of grace to build a warding wall that would protect Arcadia from Lucifer.

Though they were greatly weakened, they were not given an opportunity to rest. 

Lucifer continued his attack in the form of smaller skirmishes across the planet. The ebb and flare of power had direct consequences on Earth as well. While storms raged and flooded coastal areas, droughts destroyed crops further inland. As the gods battled, humans erected temples and sent sacrifices, all in a desperate plea for guidance and protection.

Indeed, for all their good intentions, the gods became consumed with their own war. The very beings they had sworn to serve became something of a universal currency - souls. The more souls a god had beholden to them, the more power they retained. The sacrifices were all taken gladly, the human souls ingested to refuel their grace, all to power an endless war.

It all seemed very fair to them; a sacrifice in return for protection. 

The grace that they regained was used to fight against Lucifer's growing army. Sacrifices appeared yearly, sometimes more if the weather had been particularly brutal, or the crops notably slim. Always a steady stream of them, waiting in their temples. 

Humans considered it an honour to be chosen to serve a god, did they not? 

***

When Castiel chose to spend time on Earth, he favoured the forest that grew by one of his temples. The temple sat outside a seaside town, and the thick swatch of greenery beyond it bordered a sharp cliff that dropped off right into the ocean. 

It was a wilder place than most. The plants and animals here benefited from the steady pulse of Castiel’s grace. It both emboldened their natures and mutated their figures, turning them into more savage versions of the creatures they once were.

All this to say that humans, normally, did not enter here. 

Which meant that this human was either truly brave, or truly stupid.

He’d entered an hour ago, slowly making his way through the woodland, carefully stepping over thick roots and the gnarled trunks of long-ago fallen trees. 

Castiel drifted closer. 

The man - boy, really - was just barely past the cusp of adulthood. He was well-formed, certainly. Tall, fine featured and lean muscled. His skin, uncovered by the robe, was sun-kissed, the smoothness broken only by the occasional scar. He wore the typical garb of a sacrificial offering: the thin white robe that scarcely covered his body, delicate bracelets coiled around each wrist and a golden circlet in his hair. 

What set him apart were the weapons. 

As one might predict, those who were to be gifted to the gods weren't armed as though they were going to war. A sword hung from one side of this human’s belt, and the way through the forest was aided by the gentle blue light that shone from the barrel of his magitech pistol.

Not an offering at all, then.

A hunter, perhaps? If so, hunting what? 

His soul was unmarked. He wasn’t a vassal of any other god. Perhaps he was seeking the flesh of one of his pets. Castiel had heard that there was quite a market out there for them. Living or dead. Pelts, horns, claws, blood. All of it sold well, for the rare few who were able to take one of them down.

Even the squirrels here were a force to be reckoned with. 

But these creatures were all under Castiel’s protection. Entering the forest without his express approval was nothing more than a flagrant show of disrespect. 

_ ‘I should be furious,’ _ he thought to himself as he invisibly matched his pace to that of the boy’s. 

_ Should be _. But really, all he felt was surprise. Interest, even, both a rare and precious things for a creature as old as he.

The intruder was a gift, Castiel decided. Though not one for any conventional reasons. He wondered how he would react, the little hunter, if he, himself, were to become prey.

With a flicker of his grace, the forest shifted, closing around them with the rapid crush and creak of foliage. The ground bucked beneath them and the human was knocked off his feet with a startled yelp. 

The impact jolted the hunter's pistol from his hand. It fell to the ground, skittering a few feet from his grasp. Undeterred, the human grabbed for his sword instead, scrambling to his feet, blade at the ready in front of him.

"Where are you?" he demanded at the nighttime air, his voice harsh and beautiful, and underlaid with the barest traces of trepidation. 

_ Where _, he’d said. Not who, or what. The human had entered with full understanding of how dangerous this place was. He was looking for something, with intent.

Some_ one. _

Himself, then?

Delighted at the prospect, Castiel gathered himself into a vaguely human shape and entered the clearing. He approached at a relaxed pace, tilting his head to the side as he surveyed his fascinating little intruder. “You’re a determined young thing, aren’t you? But I believe that I should be the one asking the questions here. This is my domain, after all.”

As soon as he laid eyes on him, the boy drew a pendant out from under the collar of his robe; a hagstone bound to a leather cord. Castiel watched as the human muttered a spell under his breath, and he chose to remain still as it washed over him, tearing into his human guise.

It was a courtesy, really, to cloak himself in human form when talking to humans, however rare those moments are. After all, he wanted answers, not quaking and fear. The spell had shorn through the outer layer of his glamour, and he shrugged it off, stretching himself out to his fullest height.

If the human wanted to see what he truly was, then let him _ see. _

The man had the decency to look cowed, though his defiant stance didn’t loosen any under the magnificence of Castiel’s true form. He measured twelve feet, not including the curve of the great horns which protruded from either side of his head. 

His wingspan easily measured twice his height. They stretched up from his back, curving over the clearing and blotting out the light from the moon above. A multitude of colours danced in delicate swirls across his feathers, the bioluminescence painting a new canopy of stars above them.

The blue-grey of his skin was spiralled with brighter, luminescent blue, twisting patterns that curled along his body. He was bare from the waist up, and in the place of human legs, tentacles writhed outward, the ends coiling gracefully over the forest floor.

“Castiel,” the human realized. 

And then he lunged for his pistol.

A tentacle snapped out, nabbing the human by his ankle and yanking him to the ground again. Castiel extended two more, one to relieve the human of his sword, and the other to capture his hands, binding them behind his back with a firm twist. A fourth curled around the human’s mouth, muffling his enraged cries. 

Castiel pulled him up and closer, winding more tentacles around his torso and legs. He could tear him apart if he so wished, rend limb from limb and leave him a carcass on the ground to be gnawed upon by the forest folk. But it wouldn’t do to destroy his new toy so soon, and so he cradled the human’s body gently, his grip only firm enough to show intent, but not to bruise.

Valiantly, the man continued to struggle, even as Castiel petted a hand through his hair. “Relax yourself, I don’t wish to harm you.” Not yet, at any rate. There was something unique in the way the man’s soul resonated with the forest, something that he hadn’t seen in a very, very long time. 

All souls were beautiful; one of his father’s finest creations. That being said, there was gold threaded through the light of this one’s. He was blessed with a touch of the divine.

_ Fascinating _.

“If I unmuzzle you, will you behave?” he asked, drawing away the tentacle that covered the human’s mouth.

The answer was no, it seemed. As soon as his mouth was free, the boy immediately tried to bite him. 

As Castiel pulled further away, the human opted instead to spit at the offending tentacle’s direction. Castiel looped it around his neck instead, the thicker end pressing at the base of the boy’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head backward. He could feel the human’s pulse now, thrumming against his skin like the rapid flutter of a bird’s wing and just as fragile.

Castiel drew his captive closer. “Tell me your name, foolish one, and your purpose here.”

His answer came in the form of narrowed eyes and a defiant tilt of the human's chin. Castiel narrowed his own eyes in turn. 

"I asked you: what is your _ name _?" He suffused his voice with his thrall, grip tightening over the man’s body as he let his power flow over the human.

"Dean!" The answer ripped from the boy’s throat, leaving him breathless and dazed. Dean shook it off a split second later, fast replacing confusion with anger. His jaw went tight as he gritted his teeth together, as though that would somehow stop him from speaking again, if he were so compelled.

“And your purpose? Or shall I guess?” Castiel idly traced the tip of tentacle across Dean’s chest, just below the delicate bones of his collar. 

“You aren’t marked like the rest,” he began. His offerings usually came clean and bathed and anointed in oil. 

The tentacle drifted lower, plucking at the hem of Dean’s robe. “And you came armed,” he continued, casually, pointing at Dean’s fallen weapons with the end of another tentacle. Dean squirmed in an attempt to escape his touch. Castiel tightened his hold on him yet again, forcing Dean's spine to arch.

“Have my people become complacent, Dean?” He thought for a moment and then hefted Dean into the air, giving him a sharp shake. “Should I be angry with them?”

“No!” Dean choked out in reply. 

Castiel stilled and drew Dean closer to him again. His touch again became a cradle, and he chose to reward this good - passable, really - behaviour with another pet to Dean’s hair.

“What then? You simply wandered in as a volunteer? And they allowed it? Like that?"

Dean made to struggle against his binds again. "No, I just. Took it. And left, I--"

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "You're protecting someone," he observed. "Who is it? A family member?" His eyes narrowed dangerously. "A _ lover _?" he asked, layering thrall over his voice once more.

"My brother!" The answer choked it's way from Dean. Once he recovered, he again graced Castiel with a scowl. "You need to stop doing that."

Castiel shrugged. "I wouldn't have to if you were more forthcoming. Now, tell me why it is that you sought to harm the god that protects you?”

Dean snorted, turning his head to try to dislodge Castiel’s hand from hair. Undeterred, Castiel held on. "Protect us? You don’t even care about us. You care about _ you _.” 

Dean yelped, tears jumping to his eyes as Castiel’s hand tightened in his hair, dangerously close to tearing it out by the roots. Another tentacle squeezed down around his chest, contorting his body into an uncomfortable bend and forcing the air from his lungs.

“I’ve been tolerating your disrespect because it amuses me to do so, Dean, but don’t for a moment think that it is your right to demean what I do for you and your kind.”

“And what is it you’ve done for my kind?” Dean asked - no, demanded, somehow managing to spit the words out despite his circumstance. He was thoroughly caught in Castiel’s hold, as helpless as a fly in a spider’s web, and still he fought, shining on with a fierce, wild beauty.

Perhaps it was more than Castiel’s amusement that was keeping Dean alive. His pretty face was doing wonders for his longevity.

“I am the one who protects your town from the sea storms,” Castiel said, voice thick with warning. “I am the one who guides your ships. I am the one who summons the four winds to quicken your journeys. I am the one who ensures that Lucifer’s armies don’t raze your town to the ground. Those who deign to show me the respect that I am due are justly rewarded.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dean protested, short, shallow breaths falling from his mouth. It brought Castiel’s attention down to his lips; parted and spit-shiny under the moonlight. “You take. All the gods ever do is take and take. We send people into these woods and they never come back.”

“So you sought to kill me? To protect your brother? He was the true offering, wasn’t he? The one chosen by the village to be given to me?”

Dean tightened his jaw and then gave a terse, stiff nod. 

Castiel loosened the tentacle around his chest as a reward, and Dean sucked in a deep, greedy breath, then winced as his ribs sent up their collective protest.

“You’re a good brother. A brave hunter for your people, aren’t you?”

Dean huffed and hung his head, not deigning to answer. But the gold in his soul shone brighter. Castiel wondered if it was the mention of his brother, or the praise. He looked as stubbornly defiant as always on the outside, but inwardly, he seemed pleased by the observation.

Castiel snorted. “All that being said, you’re no better than I, are you? You accuse me of being selfish, and yet…” He leaned in close, pressing his lips beside Dean’s ear. Dean flinched at the proximity, trying to twist away once more. “Your plan - had it somehow worked- would have deprived everyone in your entire town of my protection. You would have done all that for the sake of your sibling?”

Dean’s silence spoke volumes.

“Such devotion. I do hope your brother is worthy of it.” Although...if there was a chance that Dean’s sibling possessed a soul akin to that of Dean’s, then he truly would be worthy. Curious and rare, for there to be two of such a sort. Castiel wondered if this was some kind of omen. 

But of course, that implied that his father was still out there, still watching them.

And of course, time had proven again and again that his father’s continued existence simply could not be the case.

“You are a foolish little hunter. Though, less a hunter now and more prey caught in my snare, as you are. Your intentions were pure. Futile, but pure.” 

He paused, looking down at Dean, a slow smile spreading across his face. It had been a long, long time since Castiel had met someone so...dynamic. So unpredictable. Never mind the possibilities… If Dean truly carried something blessed in him, then…

He could potentially be compatible. Castiel could use him for his own purposes.

Such a treat was worth keeping. 

“Shall we make a deal, rabbit?” he asked, running his nose through the baby-soft hairs at the back of Dean’s neck. A shudder ran through Dean’s body at the movement and Castiel smiled against his skin.

“What kind of deal?” Dean asked.

“You take your brother’s place. If he enters the forest tomorrow, he will leave unharmed, and you’ll stay here with me, willingly, for the rest of your mortal life.”

Dean went stiff in his grasp, squeezing his eyes shut. Castiel wondered if he was holding back a sob.

“I stay, and you leave Sam alone?”

“Mhm,” Castiel answered, stroking a tentacle up the inside of Dean’s leg. 

“And the town? You won’t hurt any of them?”

“My deal is for your brother’s protection, rabbit. You demand much, for someone in your position.” Castiel made it to the hem of his robe and slowly began to push it up. Dean flinched at his touch, but forced himself to remain still. To accept it.

“I don’t gain anything otherwise. If I say no, you take it out on my village and Sam gets hurt anyway. I say yes, and you punish my town because of me_ , _ then Sam _ still _gets hurt. You either promise to keep protecting him and the village in ...whatever way you normally do, and I’ll agree. Otherwise, no deal.”

_ Clever _ rabbit. Castiel thrilled at this, pressing himself closer in delight, tentacles rising to wrap around Dean’s legs and draw them apart. He needed this one. He had to have him.

“Hey--paws off until I--” Dean squirmed and kicked as Castiel stroked his way up his body. “One last thing!”

Castiel sighed and relented. “_ Demanding _ rabbit. What else?”

“You don’t take any more offerings.”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t for you to dictate what I can and can’t have.”

“Well, tough luck. You wanna keep me as a pet full time? You don’t need another one.”

Castiel looked at Dean for a long while. Certainly another offering wouldn’t be as interesting as this one was proving to be. But without a continual supply of souls, Castiel was putting himself at risk.

However, through Dean, he could gain a great deal more. Through Dean, he had the potential of replacing the angels that had died with new ones. There hadn’t been a fledgeling birth since their father had left, and the constant war with Lucifer had dwindled their numbers significantly.

It was worth the risk. “Deal.”

Dean let out a breath of relief. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

“I’m a god, Dean. My word is my bond.”

“Not good enough.”

Castiel laughed, low and soft. “Such little faith, rabbit. How about this?” He reached out, placing the flat of his palm over Dean’s shoulder. Those tendrils of gold in Dean’s soul flared bright in response to the contact.

“Should you agree to serve me, I swear to you,” Castiel intoned, setting his lips by Dean’s ear again. Blue sparks of magic jumped and glittered around his hand as he burned his promise into Dean's skin. “Neither your brother nor your village will come to harm.” His hand came away, leaving a swirling sigil on Dean's arm in his wake. It shimmered with the same luminescent blue as the rest of the markings that adorned Castiel's body. 

Dean looked down at it and then took a breath, his throat bobbing against Castiel’s tentacle as he swallowed. “I swear to serve,” he murmured. 

Castiel smiled against the curve of Dean’s neck, sharp and wicked.

“And now, you’re mine.” With that, he pressed their mouths together. Dean’s lips were soft, yielding, and Castiel bit down on Dean's lower lip, the copper-sweet taste of human blood exploding across his palate. Dean yelped, trying to jerk free, but Castiel held him in place, drinking down what Dean's body would give him; what he needed in order to seal the binding spell between them.

Dean wouldn't be able to escape him; not in this lifetime.

With a touch of his tongue he resealed the wound, pulling back to survey his new pet with satisfaction. "Would you like to get started, rabbit?" he asked, lowering himself down to sit comfortably in the mossy bedding.

“Do I have a choice?” Dean asked. He yelped and wriggled as Castiel tugged him in closer, maneuvering him onto his lap. By the time he was settled, Dean was held against him, his back against Castiel's chest. 

“Well, no. But I would like you to enjoy this,” Castiel told him. He held Dean firmly in place with a hand on either side of his waist. Defiant to the last, Dean twisted in his grip, and Castiel watched as he thrashed and kicked. 

“Stop that,” he chided, grabbing one wayward leg by the ankle. Dean kicked out with his free one, and Castiel grabbed that too, tentacles winding themselves from ankle to knee as he pulled them both back toward Dean’s chest. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Other tentacles rose, moving in tandem to rid Dean of that thin, useless robe. The circlet was knocked askew in the process.

A flush crept its way down Dean’s chest and Castiel followed it with the tip of a tentacle. Dean looked good like this, pink and warm and caught like a fly in a web. Castiel decided that he wouldn't let Dean be clothed again, if he could help it. Such beauty ought not to be hidden away.

"You are lovely," he said, reaching around Dean to trace his fingers down the inside of his thighs. Dean made a nose that was somewhere between a cough and a whimper. He closed his eyes, turning his face away. "No? Don't want to hear it? Or...nerves, perhaps?" He petted down the backs of Dean's thighs to his ass. "Have you ever done this before?"

Dean still didn't open his eyes but he gave a small, minute shake of his head. 

Castiel leaned in, nipping his throat, a satisfied growl rising from his own. "Truly? Someone as beautiful as you must have had offers. Their loss, my gain."

He caressed his way up to Dean's dick, cupping a hand over his length. Dean inhaled sharply and began to struggle again, even as he hardened against Castiel’s hand. Castiel continued to toy with him, using his palm to brush steady strokes that eventually had Dean whimpering despite himself.

“Were you saving yourself for someone?” Castiel asked, the slightest growl edging his voice. “Did you leave someone behind?” Dean may have given himself up for the sake of his brother, but that didn’t preclude the existence of a lover.

“No,” Dean answered in a small voice.

“Good.” Castiel replied, dropping a kiss against Dean’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t have been seeing them again regardless.”

A drop of pre-cum beaded at the tip of Dean’s dick and Castiel swept his thumb over it, using it to smooth his way as he firmly wrapped his hand around him. "You belong to me now."

Dean huffed out a humourless laugh. "A pet."

Castiel hummed in agreement, curling a hand around Dean's throat, coaxing him to tilt his head back and rest it against his shoulder. He left itd there, taking pleasure in the gentle flutter of Dean's pulse against his palm. "Perhaps. It depends what I'm able to make of you."

Dean sent Castiel a sharp look, the pulse under his thumb picking up.

"Shh. There, there. I have no intention of harming you, rabbit. What good will you do me if you break right away?" A tentacle draped itself over Dean's chest, the suckers plucking at his nipples. Dean gasped and bucked up, fucking into Castiel's hand and then coiling away again.

"Give into it, sweetheart. It'll be fine." Castiel repeated the motion, longer this time, twisting and teasing and relishing the feeling of his nipples stiffening under his ministrations.

Leaving Dean's throat, his hand dipped between Dean's legs, moving lower to caress over his taint and balls. Lower still, he brushed it over his hole. Dean twitched in his hold again, unsure whether to press closer, or try and pull away.

“Shh,” Castiel soothed. As he continued to pet and stroke, his tentacles lovingly wound around Dean’s body. 

Castiel rubbed the pad of his finger over Dean's opening again, slow circles without pressure, letting Dean grow accustomed to the feeling. He leaned in to kiss at his neck again, then his cheek. Dean turned away from his mouth, jaw tight as he visibly forced himself to relax.

By the grace of his magic, the finger circling him slowly grew slicker. Slowly, gently, he pressed it inside, feeling Dean’s body clamp immediately down, hot and tight around the intrusion. 

“So lovely for me,” he praised as Dean gasped at the feeling. Dean's opening fluttered around his finger, slowly clenching and unclenching. Castiel made no move to add another, only let it sit there, the pad of it stroking his inner walls in small, circular motions.

He kissed Dean again, this time managing to land his lips against the line of his jaw. Cupping Dean’s throat with his hand once more, he drew his head back to rest it against Castiel’s shoulder again. Dean was vulnerable and open like this, knees folded to his chest and held open, a finger buried inside him while tentacles continued to writhe over his chest.

“You’re stunning,” Castiel told him. 

Dean grunted low in his throat and shoved his hips forward as best he could, pressing into the intrusion ever so slightly. “Just-- get on with it.”

“Demanding little thing,” Castiel said, with a fond huff. He drew away, pulling out of Dean to arrange him onto his hands and knees on the forest floor. “I want you to enjoy this, Dean,” he said, pressing down on Dean’s back to force his shoulders lower to the ground.

“Since when is it supposed to matter what I wa-haa-!” Dean cut himself off with a strangled nose as Castiel laved his tongue over his hole. He smirked against Dean's skin, smugness pouting off him in waves as Dean arched his back into it, practically shoving his ass against Castiel's face.

Castiel pulled off with an amused huff, wrapping a tentacle around Dean's waist to hold him steady, then he returned to the action. Every swipe of his tongue had Dean growing slicker, wetter. His desire tangled with Castiel's own, thrilling with the knowledge that he had finally bent this willful creature to his ways, if only for a short time. 

He pulled off, wrapping his lips around Dean's rim and sucking as he slid a finger inside him. Sloppy with slick and grace, it entered him with ease. Warmth clamped down around his finger and arousal pooled in Castiel's belly in anticipation.

He hadn't _ wanted _ like this in a very long time.

One finger became two, then three, then he shifted back entirely, chuckling at Dean's whine of protest. He patted down Dean's side, smiling in response to the irate look that was tossed at him from over Dean's shoulder.

"Patience, rabbit. You won't be left wanting, I promise." 

He wound tentacles around Dean's legs, wrapping him from thigh to knee to keep him steady as another prodded at his entrance. Dean gasped, arching against his hold as his hole fluttered open around Castiel's questing tentacle.

He pressed in, humming satisfaction as Dean stretched easily around his girth, tight and warm and velvet-soft on the inside. The tentacle inside him, suckers gently plucking at his insides, one sealing over his prostate.

Dean cried out, the sound so sweetly urgent in the night air that Castiel pressed in with greater urgency. He draped himself over Dean's back, mouthing at his neck, stroking over Dean's shoulders with his hands.

"Precious thing. I'll take such good care of you."

Dean choked out a moan, rocking helplessly back on the appendage spearing him open. 

Castiel slid out, a thinning line of slick and spit connecting the end of his tentacle to Dean's body. He groaned at the sight, shifting around to position himself.

His cock was shorter than the rest of his tentacles though no less prehensile. While smoother and devoid of suckers, it was thicker still than anything Dean had taken thus far. He touched the head of it to Dean's ready hole, and began to press inside.

"Ngh--hold on-- stop," Dean panted out. Castiel stilled. He'd only managed to insert the first inch inside Dean's body, and he yearned to bury himself as far as he could go, to test what Dean could offer him. 

But he had meant what he said before. It wouldn't do to break his new toy so soon.

"You can do it," Castiel murmured, directing more of his grace through his cock and into Dean's body. Dean jolted under him, crying out as it stimulated him from the inside, sparking along his prostate and relaxing him further.

"Pretty sure our bodies aren't aren't meant to-- fuck. Hold on." Dean groaned again and arched his back, another hard won inch sliding in. 

Castiel pressed his face against Dean's neck, breathing in his scent and chasing away the urge to simply rut inside him. 

He sent a tentacle to wrap around Dean's length, stroking him back to full hardness. Dean made another half bitten off noise of pleasure, rocking ever so slightly into the tight channel forged by his tentacle. While he remained distracted, Castiel slid in deeper, making sure to twist so that he'd brush against his prostate the entire way.

Dean trembled under him, and Castiel wound himself around Dean in what he hoped would come off as a comforting, full-body embrace. He wrapped around Dean's shoulders, drawing his arms up from the forest floor and toward his chest. He tightened them down and sent another tentacle to wind around Dean's waist and more over his legs to hold him open as he worked himself in and out of Dean's body.

Dean panted, squeezing tighter around him, whining at the feeling of too-fullness and fluttering open again. Castiel licked at the beads of sweat at Dean's neck, tentacles moving in tandem to produce a full body massage. 

Slowly he drew out and began to move again, pressing in an inch deeper with each thrust. Every time he sunk deeper into warmth and tightness and heat, he yearned for more. He yearned to burn himself upon Dean's very soul and ruin him for anyone who would come after him.

Not that there would be any others. Only him. Only this, forever.

Each thrust coaxed another broken, staccato noise of pleasure out of Dean. Each murmur, each whisper drove him to coax more. He wanted Dean to enjoy this, enjoy him. 

He had heard that humans served more willingly when they were given something in return… And they served more willingly when they loved their masters.

Castiel realized it as Dean cried out one last time, spilling warm and hot over his tentacle. With a groan, Castiel buried himself as far into Dean as he could go, withdrew, and did it again. Dean's moans of pleasure dipped back into whimpers again, but Castiel needed this, to mark him on the inside as his.

He needed Dean to love him, he realized.

Castiel murmured Dean's name as he emptied himself inside of him, jet after jet of potent angel seed, laced with his own grace. It wouldn't do anything now; not yet. But one day, with enough time…

Castiel stayed pressed inside him a moment longer, Dean lolling in his grip with exhaustion. He shifted around his tentacles, glancing down at Dean's belly and, pressing a hand on the slight protrusion that had been created from all that he'd spilled inside him.

One day, his seed would sow something far more valuable inside Dean's body.

Gently, Castiel unwound himself from Dean, pulling out and laying him against the soft moss bed. He nudged one of Dean's legs apart, watching as his come seeped from his swollen hole, dripping out to stain his thighs. Dazed, Dean allowed the manhandling, and when Castiel leaned over him, face to face, he finally allowed him to lean in and press a kiss to his mouth as well.

When Castiel pulled back he found Dean's eyes still open; glassy and half-lidded, but still watching. Castiel ran a hand through his hair, fingertips massaging the roots. "Sleep, sweet pet. All is taken care of now."

Dean snorted out a disbelieving sound and grunted his displeasure as Castiel picked him up, but nonetheless, as he spread his wings, Dean slowly drifted off to sleep.

***

Castiel didn't need to sleep, none of the gods truly did. His bedchambers were there more for the sake of having a private space of his own inside Arcadia, away from his brothers and sisters.

That said, there was one sibling who always had open entry.

The bed dipped beside Castiel as Gabriel settled down his weight. "Picked one to stay?" he asked, peeking down at Dean. Castiel's human was thoroughly wrapped in his tentacles, still dozing peacefully for now.

"He interests me," Castiel replied, raising himself enough to meet Gabriel's kiss hello. His brother settled himself in behind him, chin propped on his shoulder.

"Well that's rare" he quipped. "What's so special about him?"

"Look."

"Pretty."

"No. _ Look _. Deeper. He-- he could help, Gabriel. We can use him," he said, twisting around to give Gabriel a pointed look.

Gabriel pulled back, frowning down at Dean and then meeting Castiel's gaze. "He's male."

"That's hardly a problem and you know it."

"No, but they don't normally take well to...well." Gabriel trailed off with a shrug. 

Castiel frowned, pulling Dean closer. "I'm keeping him," he said firmly. Even if this didn't work, Dean was thoroughly his. He paused as a thought occurred to him. "He has a brother. I swore not to harm him but… perhaps that what makes Dean unique is a bloodline trait? We should look into it."

"And by 'we' you mean 'me'."

Castiel shrugged again. "I'm honouring my deal. I promised not to harm him and I can't risk breaking my oath. But you aren't so constrained."

Gabriel hummed, leaning back against his brother.

"I'll look into it."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me as fox-vii on tumblr!


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